it was in an art history class in college that i learned an important little bit about myself. i remember the moment. almost casually. the discussion was about materials. and that artists have a visceral connection to their materials. i knew that. but i'd never heard it said. i knew that i needed to have paper and paint around me. that i would feel lonely and a little lost without brushes and colours and sketchbooks. i would dig into my materials like a meal. i would stare at them, enjoy just seeing them piled before me. little tremors of joy. and that has always been my drive. the process and the love of my materials and tools. canvas and linen in rolls. stretched on wooden frames for painting. then i started finding fabrics i wanted to paint on. strange gothic fabrics that would carry the texture through the paint. and that was the beginning of my fabric collection. buying it because i loved it. and incorporating it into the work i did then.
now the materials drive me through this latest incarnation of what i make. it isn't art in the same sense as painting was for me. but i approach the making of my quilts in the same way. no rules. no directions. i leap in and let the materials carry me away. and i love the materials hard. i think this energy is palpable in the physical delight that the quilts are.